The Hero's Redemption

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “You planning to stick to construction?”

  He shrugged. “It’s all I know.”

  Ramirez studied him. “According to what I read, you have a knack for small-engine repair and even automobile repair.”

  “Both are necessary on a job site, but I’d rather not be stuck on my back under a car all day. There’s more variety in construction.”

  “I assume Ms. Parrish will give you a recommendation when you finish everything she needs you to do.”

  “I haven’t asked, but I assume so.”

  “You plan to stay in this apartment?” The parole officer nodded toward the garage.

  “If I can get a job here in town.” The idea of leaving, not being able to see Erin... Not something he wanted to think about. “I promised to do some work on it in lieu of rent, and I’ve barely started.”

  “You been in touch with family?”

  He hesitated again. “No, beyond letting my sister know I wasn’t coming to her place.” Guilt bit hard. She’d supported him all along. She was the only one who had. “I keep meaning to buy a phone, but I haven’t yet,” he concluded, ashamed.

  “Might want to do that. You have any other plans?”

  God, he wanted to get this man off his back. Out of his life. Would it help to sound ambitious?

  “Once I have a car and I can afford to, I’d like to take some college classes.”

  Ramirez’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You have a start already.”

  He did have some credits. He’d have had a lot more if Washington state taxpayers hadn’t decided not to fund education for prison inmates. “I want to get a four-year degree eventually.”

  “In what field?” The guy leaned a hip against his car. He sounded curious versus demanding.

  Cole shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Don’t know yet.” That wasn’t quite true, but was he willing to admit to something that might prove to be out of his reach? But Erin had been teaching him not to be quite so closemouthed. Gruffly, he said, “Engineering.”

  The eyebrows rose even higher this time. “I seem to remember you having high test scores, particularly in math.”

  Despite letting his grades sink his senior year of high school, Cole knew he might still have been able to get academic as well as athletic scholarships if he hadn’t had his head up his ass.

  “I’d better get back to work,” he said.

  Ramirez nodded and surprised Cole by holding out his hand. “I’ll be calling, and I’ll probably stop by again, but I’ve got to say, I’m really pleased with how you’re doing. You look a hell of a lot better than the first time we met, and you have people in your corner. I don’t usually say this so early on, but I think you’re going to make it, Cole.”

  “Thank you for not telling Mr. Zatloka about my background.”

  “Didn’t seem any need. You keep up the good work, son.”

  They shook hands and Ramirez got into his car.

  Cole started down the driveway, making himself nod when the car came even with him. He was glad to have an excuse not to see Erin for a while. This supervisory visit brought up a lot of conflicted feelings. He needed to think about those emotions, come to terms with them. But he wasn’t as angry as he’d expected to be. In fact, among all the negative shit he was feeling, there was a small warm spot. It had something to do with saying aloud where he wanted to go with his life, but also with Ramirez sounding up front when he said what he had. I think you’re going to make it, Cole.

  Damn straight, he was.

  He needed to call his sister. Say Hi, say I’m doing okay. Tonight, even if it meant borrowing Erin’s phone.

  * * *

  ERIN CAUGHT HERSELF glancing out the window way more often than she should have as she watched for Cole to come home. It truly was a coincidence, though, that she’d gone out to get something from the Jeep when she turned her head to see him striding up the driveway.

  Would he think she’d been lying in wait for him?

  Weren’t you?

  “Hi. Um, I left some paint samples in the car.”

  His expression remained impassive. No telling whether he was mad, depressed, had been fired or had put Ramirez’s visit out of his mind.

  Oh, to heck with it. “I was wondering if you’d join me for dinner. The house smells like fresh paint, but if you don’t mind that...”

  His answer hung in the balance. She could almost see the gears spinning. Finally, he said, “Thanks. Let me get cleaned up first.”

  “Okay. Good.” She was about to race for the house to accelerate meal preparations, but then she remembered those paint samples. She did want to make a decision tonight.

  Five minutes later, he showed up, for once not knocking. The first she knew, he’d opened the door and called, “Erin?”

  “In the kitchen.” When she heard his footsteps, she said, “It’s spaghetti again. I hope you liked it.”

  “It was great. Anything I can do?”

  He always asked. She had him pour drinks and get the garlic bread out of the oven while she dumped the spaghetti into a colander and dodged the steam that leaped up.

  Not until they sat down did she say, “So, how’d it go with Ramirez?”

  He gave her another of his unreadable looks from those cool blue eyes. “Okay.” Pause as he ladled sauce over his spaghetti. “Probably thanks to you.”

  Which he no doubt loved. She shrugged, as if unaware of how he must feel about her involvement, and said, “I told him the truth. You’ve done a great job. You’re a nice man. You haven’t held any wild parties.”

  “Did you ask him not to tell the Zatlokas I’m an ex-con?”

  “Yes.” And what was wrong with that?

  He nodded and started eating.

  Erin didn’t even pick up her fork.

  After a minute, he paused with a bite halfway to his mouth. “You want to know what he said?”

  “Yes!” She subsided. “Well, if it was important. I mean, was he satisfied?”

  Some expression flickered in his eyes. “Yeah. He seemed...pleased.”

  “He should be!”

  Cole’s face relaxed almost into a smile. “Did you chew him out for doubting me?”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  He gave a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, a little.”

  “Oh.” His smile made her skin feel tight and tingly. And warm, too, which undoubtedly meant she was blushing.

  “Thank you.” He was suddenly serious. “I mean that.”

  Her cheeks were downright hot now. “You’re welcome. You’ve done amazing things around here.” Hating the huskiness in her voice, she said, “I feel lucky to have found you.”

  He shook his head in automatic repudiation, but didn’t actually argue. Instead, they looked at each other, neither taking a bite. The air felt electric, and his eyes were a brighter blue than usual. All she heard was the rush of her heartbeat.

  What if I asked... There was so much she wanted to ask him, but she knew she couldn’t. She didn’t always understand male pride, but she did know that he had to make the choice to come to her, and that would happen only if he overcame the obstacles he kept tripping over.

  She wasn’t sure who looked away first. Maybe they both did at the same moment. They resumed eating but in silence, until she couldn’t stand it for another minute.

  “How is the ramp coming along?”

  “Good. I think my plan will work.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “It might be easier if the old guy wasn’t hanging over my shoulder all the time. He’s obviously overdue for some excitement in his life.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Wasn’t collapsing and getting taken off to the hospital in an ambulance enough excitement?”

  “Not the fun kind. He wants to hold bo
ards for me when I saw. If I stop to calculate, he ponders right along with me.”

  Erin laughed. “He’ll probably tell the neighbors he did half the work.”

  Cole actually smiled again. “He’s okay.”

  They talked about how far she’d gotten with the paint job, and he mentioned a book he’d just finished that she had loved. He had more doubts about the central argument, so they had the kind of debate she loved. The kind she’d once encouraged in her classroom and enjoyed with friends. Since he’d relaxed and was, for him, chatty, she asked what else he’d been reading, and was surprised anew by the range of subjects that interested him. They’d already talked about The Good Soldiers, a powerful look at one unit in the Iraq war. Now he mentioned Five Days at Memorial, about the horror in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and he had just begun All the Single Ladies, about unmarried women and the trend toward independence.

  Erin blinked at that one, coming from him.

  “The world’s changed,” he said seriously.

  “You feel like Rip Van Winkle.” She’d known that, on one level, without realizing how profoundly those ten lost years had impacted him.

  A nerve ticked in his cheek, and she wondered if he’d answer. But he started talking, slowly at first, then more naturally.

  “Incarcerated, you watch some television, and you can get books and magazines from the library. Sports are the most popular on TV. The selection of books isn’t all that current. Even if it was...reading about something isn’t the same as experiencing it.” He went quiet.

  He’d never said this much before. The fact that he had...felt like an odd kind of gift. Trust.

  But then he surprised her even more by going on. “I took a bus from Walla Walla to downtown Seattle. I was just about paralyzed when I stood on the sidewalk and watched all those cars jockeying to get in the right lane, lights and movement everywhere, people shouting—” He shuddered, although Erin wasn’t sure he knew he had. “Things I wouldn’t have given a thought to ten years ago made me feel as if I’d been skinned and all my nerves were exposed. I needed someplace slower.”

  “To dip your foot in the water.”

  “Instead of cannonballing in? Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Were you at all tempted to go home while you were in Seattle?”

  His lashes veiled his eyes. “No.”

  That was all. No. Erin wished she hadn’t asked. He’d already told her his father hadn’t once visited him. Why would Cole want to go home?

  Because we all do, she thought sadly. Selling the house where she’d grown up, after her father’s death, had been so hard. Driving away the last time, seeing it in the rearview mirror just before she turned the corner, knowing she’d never be back... Even the memory cramped her heart. And how much more painful would that have been if her father still lived in the house—but she knew he’d never welcome her again? She wondered if his father was still in Cole’s childhood home.

  If Cole’s dad ever showed up on her doorstep, she thought she might punch him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, when Erin got home from Lowe’s with a bathroom vanity, molded counter and sink and miscellaneous plumbing parts in the rear of her Cherokee, Cole trotted across the street to meet her. He must have been watching for her.

  Just like I always do for him. Yeah, but probably for a different reason, she thought resignedly. As usual, he looked really good in cargo pants and a gray T-shirt. His hair was merely short now, his arms, neck and face tanned. His body wouldn’t be, since he had yet to strip off his shirt when working outside. Or inside, for that matter, at least that she’d seen. How many tattoos did he have? Was he afraid they’d label him as an ex-con?

  Today was actually warm, the sun out, trees, daffodils and early tulips blooming everywhere. Hard to believe it was already May. The buds on a couple of Nanna’s big rhododendrons promised a colorful show.

  When she met Cole at the rear of the SUV, he said, “Let me call Ryan.” He pulled his new cell phone out of his pocket. “He offered to help carry the heavy stuff. I don’t want you trying.”

  “Do I know Ryan?” she asked, disconcerted.

  “He’s your neighbor, the one on the corner.” The call was obviously answered, because he said a few words, then stowed the phone, looking satisfied. “He’s on his way.”

  Wanting to do something, Erin grabbed the new faucet assemblies for both the shower and bathroom sink and carried them upstairs to the apartment. By the time she’d returned, Cole and a stranger were sliding the vanity wrapped in cardboard and plastic from the back. Erin got out of the way.

  Cole introduced her to Ryan Sager, who was probably in his early thirties, maybe five foot nine or ten but stocky, with plenty of muscles, a friendly face and russet hair.

  “Hey,” he said, “I’ve seen you passing. Another redhead.”

  Erin laughed, even though she was chagrined to realize she’d never noticed him. Apparently, she was wearing blinders. “I pretend I’m blonde.”

  “I tell my wife my hair is brown.” He grimaced. “It almost works until my beard starts to grow in.”

  “Copper red?”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Unfortunately.”

  They both laughed.

  Then he reminded Cole to call as soon as Erin got back from Lowe’s with the shower stall, and headed back up the street.

  “How did you meet him?” Erin asked, watching him go.

  “Oh, I saw him trying to unload a sofa from the back of his pickup truck a few days ago. His wife was supposed to take the other end. I helped get it in the house.” Cole grinned. “She was sure happy to see me.”

  Remembering her aching muscles after hefting sheets of plywood above her head, Erin said, “She has my sympathies.”

  An hour later, watching Cole and Ryan muscle the old, cracked shower stall down the stairs, Erin thought about how she’d deliberately isolated herself, when so many of the neighbors had been Nanna’s friends. They were people who cared about her, for her grandmother’s sake. Meanwhile, Cole, deeply reserved, readily extended a helping hand to complete strangers. She’d do better, she vowed. Time to do some visiting. And maybe, just maybe, she could drum up some more work for him.

  For his sake, she told herself, not for mine... But lying to herself didn’t work very well.

  After the two men plunked the old shower stall down in the driveway, Cole studied it. “I thought about taking an ax to this. Maybe I still should. We can get it in the garbage container little by little, instead of making a dump run.”

  “I should’ve kept that Dumpster for longer.”

  “Maybe. But I can break down the cabinets, even burn them, and the old sinks will go in the can.” He shrugged, then joined Ryan, who was already untying the ropes holding the new shower stall on the roof of the Cherokee.

  Watching Cole and Ryan wrestling the bulky thing up the stairs, turning the corner and miraculously getting it through the door, Erin heard some serious profanities. Muffled voices continued to come from inside the apartment. It was quite a while before they reappeared. She guessed they’d unwrapped it and set it in place in the bathroom.

  “Did it fit okay?” she asked the minute Cole emerged.

  “Perfect,” he said, looking surprised that she’d doubt him.

  He shook Ryan’s hand and thanked him, Ryan saying, “Michelle wants to meet you, Erin. She’ll probably drop by one of these days.”

  “That would be nice,” she said, meaning it. “You have kids, right?”

  “Eight-year-old boy, five-year-old girl. Michelle talks about going back to work once Gracie starts kindergarten this fall.”

  He was already backing away, so she didn’t ask what his wife had done before choosing to stay home with the kids. When he reached the sidewalk and turned out of si
ght, she asked Cole about Ryan.

  “Do men discuss things like what you do for a living?”

  “Sometimes. Ryan is a real estate appraiser, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

  She nodded, almost asking if he’d told the other man his own history, but glad she’d kept her mouth closed when Cole said, “Listen, unless you have something planned, I thought I’d make dinner tonight. Uh, if you don’t mind breakfast.”

  “Breakfast?”

  “I bought a waffle iron at a garage sale last weekend. I’ve been wanting to try it.”

  She laughed. “What if it doesn’t work?”

  “It heats up.” His rare grin flashed. “If the waffle sticks to it, we’ll have pancakes.”

  “Works for me. Thank you.”

  “I owe you a few dozen meals,” he said. “I wanted to ask you a favor, too.”

  “Really? What?” He didn’t usually sound so casual about asking her for anything.

  “I wondered if I could drive on I-5 tomorrow.” They’d talked about it, but hadn’t done it yet.

  “Definitely. If you feel confident, you could take the test next week.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Sounds good,” she said, smiling enough to satisfy him.

  They agreed on six o’clock for dinner, and he went across the street to get a few more hours of work in. Erin wondered if the Zatlokas were paying him the same she had, or more. How much did he have stashed away? He hadn’t mentioned opening a bank account, but might have by now. Earlier, he’d talked about buying a bike to extend his ability to get around, but he never had. He must be saving for a car instead. That would give him real independence.

  The thought made her glad and sad at the same time. His confidence grew by the day, while she was still trapped in her grief.

  * * *

  COLE’S PHONE RANG that evening, only a minute after Erin left following dinner and some lazy conversation over coffee. Dani, he saw, and answered immediately.

  “Hey.”

  “So, I was thinking,” his sister said. “Could I take you out to lunch someday if I drive down?”